“No wonder he plugged you,” said Clark. “He probably had all that money on him.”
“Probably. It was all in currency—big bills, mostly.”
“How’s the arm?”
“Don’t hurt much. Won’t be usin’ it for a while. I never looked for Joe to shoot. He’s awful fast with a gun.”
Clark nodded.
“You drew first, didn’t you, Len?”
“Mebbe I did. He said he was goin’. Yuh see, I didn’t want to arrest him. There wasn’t any sure thing that the money wasn’t in Wheeler’s pockets. I just asked Joe to wait, and when he insisted on goin’ I didn’t know just what to do. If I’d had any sense, I’d have poked a gun in his ribs and made him wait. Live and learn, I reckon.”
“I suppose they’ll get him.”
“Mebbe. Joe knows this country and he must ’a’ been set for a getaway. Yuh can’t tell which way he’ll go. Headed out south, but he’s just as liable to be ridin’ north now. He’s no fool. And two men might not be able to find him. We can’t expect much help from the punchers.”
“No, it seems that you can’t, Len. Being a sheriff in Tumbling River has its drawbacks.”